


Sleepless

by LiraelClayr007



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas - 2019!! [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dealing with humanity, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: Rose wakes up alone. There’s a painful stab, but only for a moment; she knows it’s hard for his Time Lord half to do the completely human things, and sleeping is at the very top of that list. She doesn’t have to wonder where he is. He’s in his workshop, the spare bedroom that had never held a bed--at least not since they’d moved in. Most nights when this happens--and there are many--she just closes her eyes and goes back to sleep, missing his warmth and his touch. But tonight she decides she needs to see him, even if only for a few minutes. She doesn’t think he’ll mind.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: 31 Days of Ficmas - 2019!! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559875
Comments: 16
Kudos: 71
Collections: 31 Days of Ficmas 2019





	Sleepless

_New tools,_ he thinks. _Some of these aren’t quite right. Calibrated wrong, or don’t fit my hands right. Just a hair off. I can do better._

His mind is off, running in ten different directions. His body may be slightly human now--he can actually _feel_ himself aging, a horrifying experience he tries to ignore as much as possible--but his mind is all Time Lord. He can still do all the complex calculations he needs for whatever new thing he’s currently working on in his head, all while reciting _A Christmas Carol_ and trying to figure out what to give Rose for her next birthday.

It’s late. Two fifty three am. He’s still got a perfect sense of time, too. Only it’s less comforting now. For one thing, he doesn’t like to think about time passing, because now time is finite. For another, he knows he should be asleep, or at least in bed with Rose. Holding her. Listening to her breath, to the beating of her heart.

Her single heart, now so like his own.

Rose wakes up alone. There’s a painful stab, but only for a moment; she knows it’s hard for his Time Lord half to do the completely human things, and sleeping is at the very top of that list. She doesn’t have to wonder where he is. He’s in his workshop, the spare bedroom that had never held a bed--at least not since they’d moved in. Most nights when this happens--and there are many--she just closes her eyes and goes back to sleep, missing his warmth and his touch. But tonight she decides she needs to see him, even if only for a few minutes. She doesn’t think he’ll mind.

From the doorway she watches as he tinkers, and her heart swells, remembering how many times she watched him in the TARDIS, standing at a distance, as he built or rebuilt or took apart this or that. Sometimes she’d thought he just did it to keep his hands busy, but other times she saw the genius things he created out of what looked like piles of nothing.

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say her name, but she knows he’s heard her just the same. He always knows when she’s near. She could go in, but for now she just stands there, watching. It’s like a dance, the way he moves around the workbench. He chooses a tool for his partner, spins it gracefully, sends it on its way and chooses another. His feet on the floor make barely a whisper of sound.

Just when she’s thinking of going back to bed and leaving him to it he says, “Don’t go, Rose. I like when you visit at night. Reminds me of times in the TARDIS.”

She slips in beside him, rising on her toes for a kiss. “Would you like some tea? We’ve got chamomile in the cupboard.”

He breathes a satisfied sigh. “That sounds brilliant.” He kisses her lips again, then ducks down further to nuzzle at her neck.

“None of that,” she says playfully, sidestepping. “I’ll never get to the tea if you start that up.”

He pretends to pout, but she can see in his eyes that most of his brain is already back at his tinkering. “Go on,” she says, waving him back toward the workbench. “Get on with it. I’ll be back in a mo.”

When she gets back with the tea he’s still working at the assembled bits of metal and wire that he’d been attending before, but there’s a place cleared for their tea, with two stools placed side by side. Her heart leaps--he’d gladly take the tea and drink it standing up while he works. This is for her.

“I brought biscuits too.” She loves the gleam in his eye when she says this. He’s an ancient being, but sometimes he’s as advanced as a toddler. “Shortbread.”

“Fantastic,” he says. He pulls a face, same as he always does when he says that word.

“Still doesn’t taste right in your mouth?” she asks, trying to bite back a giggle.

“It’s just _wrong_ ,” he says.

They sit down for tea, and Rose can feel a bit of the tension easing from her Doctor with the first sip. She leans into him, just resting her head on his shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep again?” she asks softly.

“I don’t need as much sleep as a full human,” he says.

“But you need to sleep sometimes.”

He kisses the top of her head then rests his head on hers. “I do. And more than I did when I was...well...before. But my brain is still fully Time Lord, and it’s hard to slow it down enough to sleep.”

He sighs, his breath warm on her head.

“But tinkering helps,” he says, brighter. “Spending time in my workshop, it’s comforting. Reminds me of the TARDIS, in some ways. There’s so much they don’t have on this earth, so there’s always something for me to build, or to build better. And there are things here I’ve never seen that are perfect for taking apart.”

“Show me,” she says.

“Show me,” Rose says.

“It’s nothing all that special,” he says, but his heart warms just to have her here, to have her ask, to have her see. He leads her to stand before the pile of plastics and metal and wires. “It was an ordinary radio, for listening to music. I’m trying to see if I can boost the signal to catch radio waves from space--passing ships, maybe even other planets.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Don’t you need satellites and things for a signal like that? There are whole arrays on earth aimed at deep space.” She tilts her head, thinking. “Or, there were on the other earth. I don’t actually know about here.”

“There are,” he says, grinning. “But I don’t need ‘em.” He taps his temple. “Time Lord brain. Very clever. Always building a better mousetrap.”

“We don’t have mice,” she says dryly. “The neighbors have a cat.”

He huffs, but it’s in jest. “I’m building a better radio, Rose Tyler. Just you wait.”

She bites her lower lip, hesitating. Then, “Could I help?”

Again, that ping to his heart. He stands behind her, his chest pressed against her back, and guides her hands with his. He speaks softly into her ear, giving directions and encouragement and occasionally just telling her how much he loves her. Under their hands the radio begins to take shape--wires are twisted and soldered, tiny chips placed just so.

After half an hour she yawns, a huge, jaw-cracking yawn, and he calls a halt. “Bed. No arguing.”

She turns in his arms and looks up at him. “But this has been so… I just don’t want to leave you.”

He kisses her softly, holding her close. “That’s alright then, since I’m coming with you.”

They spend the rest of the night tangled up in each other, fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> 31 Days of Ficmas || Day 1 - Workshop
> 
> ***
> 
> So excited to be posting to this collection again this year! 🎄


End file.
